


Indecent Exposure

by Garrae



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Social Media, post-ep, webmercial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garrae/pseuds/Garrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep for Castle 7.05, containing substantial spoilers for that episode (and potentially all aired episodes).   Fluffy one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indecent Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on fanfic.net. From a detailed prompt by The-KLF: their idea, my prose.

It’s fair to say that while Castle is notably keen on using any means possible to sell more books, he is not notably keen on people laughing at him.  And right now, at least a million people are laughing at him, increasing by the instant and the click.  However, three of them haven’t needed to click.  They’re standing right next to him, and worse, they are watching that damn webmercial for a second, and if he doesn’t get his hands on the remote, no doubt a third, time.  And they will snigger.  Which is simply _not fair._

They’re already sniggering.  Even Kate, though she’s trying hard to hide it and looks at least a little sympathetic, (so she should: he’d sympathised with her) is sniggering.  He is _definitely_ not seeing the funny side of this fiasco.  He employs size and reach and takes possession of the remote.

“Who let this happen?  There’s supposed to be control over this!”  Castle stops for a second.  “What the hell was Gina thinking of, letting this past?  I need to speak to her.”  He looks balefully at his mother, daughter and Kate.  “Out, all of you!”  He clicks off the screen, remote firmly gripped – he doesn’t need more giggles and sniggers distracting him – to _discuss_ this fiasco.  Discuss, in this case, meaning a substantial dose of spleen-venting on Gina and then an instruction to _sort it out_ in any way possible.

The three women vacate his study in an ill-suppressed collective cloud of amusement.

“One and a quarter million hits, darling,” his mother’s not-so-dulcet tones waft through the bookshelves.  Castle growls angrily and very audibly.  “Oh, kiddo, don’t be like that.  All publicity is good publicity, you know.”  The suppressed noise of disagreement underlain by a note of hysterical mirth is undoubtedly Kate.  He shuts the door very hard behind them.  It’s not a slam.  He never slams doors.  So it couldn’t possibly be said that he had slammed this one.

“Gina!” he grits down the phone.  “What the hell is this?”

“Wha’?”  How can she be asleep?  It’s barely 5pm.  Though she’s certainly been asleep on the job to let this screw-up through.

“Have you seen this webmercial?  How the _fuck_ did you let that through?  It makes me look a complete idiot.  What the hell are you playing at?  You’re supposed to be on my side.  You can whistle for your Christmas bonus.  And don’t think I’ll forget this when it comes to renegotiating terms for the next book.”

“Wha?  Rick, what are you talking about?”  The words are emitted on a massive yawn and carry a heavy connotation of complete failure to understand anything due to having just been woken.  Castle’s sure he can hear the rustle of bedlinen.

“I’m talking about that webmercial you told me would be the next big thing.”  There’s another massive yawn, and more rustling.  If it weren’t that this is dedicated-to-the-job-Gina, who never _ever_ gets distracted from her work, he’d swear she was in bed with someone – he is _sure_ he can hear soft snoring in the background.  It does not improve his mood one iota.

“Rick, I haven’t even been in the office for the last fortnight.  I’m on my honeymoon and it’s the middle of the night.”

“What?”  It’s Castle’s turn to be nonplussed.  “Honeymoon?  I didn’t even know you were engaged.”  He’s entirely distracted from his fury.  “When did you get married?  Why didn’t you tell me,” he adds plaintively.  Most of the time now he’s perfectly good friends with Gina, in a mutually respectful sort of way.  She even gets on with Kate, though Castle has severe reservations about that particular combination.  He feels that it might result in them teaming up against him, which would be a very poor outcome indeed.  He might actually have to do some work more often than he felt like, if that happened.

“Last month.”  There’s a rather uncomfortable pause while Castle reflects that he wasn’t exactly contactable for the three months prior to that.

“Oh,” he says eventually, rather deflated.

“I sent you and your family an invitation but obviously you weren’t around and the others politely declined.”

“But who are you married to?  I don’t remember meeting anyone.  Shouldn’t I have met the man saving me from your alimony requests?”

“You mean royalties, Rick.  Contractual, not marital.  And you did meet him.  Brad.  You liked him.”  Castle thinks back.  He vaguely remembers a mid-height, pleasant-looking man of friendly demeanour, who had looked adoringly at Gina – who, amazingly, had looked adoringly back at him.  Castle’s sure Gina had never looked at him like that.

“Oh,” he says again. 

It’s not that Castle is stupid enough to think that Gina would never look at another man after him (though that would be profoundly flattering and consistent with his previous pre-Kate reputation – he’d better not think that where Kate can see him, because if she reads that thought his ears and nose will be served up on toast for dinner) but he’s just a little hurt that she’s got married again and he didn’t even know about it.

“Fascinating as this is, Rick, it’s 1 a.m. here” –

“Where’s here?”  It might be somewhere he might want to consider for whenever he and Kate manage to arrange – and then be ready for, which might be more complicated given that he still doesn’t remember anything and he’s in two minds as to whether he wants to remember at all  – their wedding.  Gina’s pretty keen on luxury, hence her ridiculously large share of his royalties.  That share certainly keeps her in shoes and champagne.

“Mauritius – so what’s your problem?  I’m not gonna do anything myself till next week when I’m back, but I’ll get someone on it.”

There’s a rather sleepy masculine murmur in the background, which Castle readily recognises.  He uses that tone every time Kate’s phone rings in the middle of the night for a new body.  His woes rise back up with Gina’s brisk, what’s-wrong-now-you-big-kid tones.

“You told me to do the webmercial and they’ve constructed it from all the out-takes and made it like I’m _singing_.  With stupid cartoon graphics and a background section that will give viewers seizures.  It makes me out to be a fool.”  He takes a breath and calms down a little.  “I’m supposed to have final approval on all PR but normally I trust you to get it right.  This is not right.”

“Okay.  It doesn’t sound like they’ve got this right at all.  None of us want you coming across as a klutz.  I’ll get my people to find out what’s gone on and when I’m back we’ll sort this out.”  Her publishing instincts clearly kick in, despite being two-thirds asleep.  “What are the hit stats?”

“How is this important?”  Castle’s view is very much that the more people who’ve seen him portrayed as a jackass the worse it is, but that even one person is one too many.

“If you’re really popular it makes a difference.  If no-one’s seen it you needn’t care.”

“Over a million in less than an hour.”  There’s a flavour of silence he recognises.  Gina is thinking.  He can almost see the satisfied smile on her face. 

“I can fix this,” she yawns.  “Lemme think about it.  You’ll come up smelling of roses – and dollars.  Everyone loves you.  We’ll make it work.”

“Thanks,” Castle says sincerely.  “Sorry ‘bout disturbing you.   Come by with Brad when you’re back and we’ll celebrate.”  He looks up as the study door opens.  It’s Kate, bearing coffee.  “Congratulations, Gina.  Bye.”  He clicks off the call.

Kate slithers up to him and snuggles in on the study couch.  “Thought you might need this,” she says, and proffers coffee.  It smells like she’s added his favourite creamer.  There’s still a mischievous smile lurking in the corners of her eyes and mouth, but she doesn’t let it escape further.

“It’s not fair,”  Castle says unhappily.  He pouts.  “Why do I have to put up with this sort of exposure?”

Kate grins, with a certain amount of sympathy.

“Told you so,” she says.  “Social media is dangerous.”  Castle’s just starting to take umbrage when she carries on, “But you’re trending on Twitter right now.  You’ve gone viral.  And…” she pauses meaningfully, “…most of the tweets are about how you must have a great sense of humour to allow it and play along and that it’s a totally original advert.  Some of them are even threatening to nominate it for some advertising award.”  Castle looks a lot happier.  “And you’re up to second on the Amazon list of thriller sales already.”  His smile brightens.  Kate wriggles in even more closely, and puts a comforting arm around him, playing lightly with his collar in a not-yet-but-tending-to-be provocative way.  Her fingers flicker softly over his neck.  His mood has definitely improved.

“Where are the others?” Castle asks.  Kate’s ever-increasing closeness is worthy of some focused attention, starting (but definitely not finishing) at her mouth.  However, he’s had quite enough of being interrupted just when things are getting interesting, and he hasn’t yet got round to fitting a bolt to both his study and bedroom doors.  That is absolutely on the to-do list.  He’s even bought the hardware.

“They’ve gone out shopping.  For some reason they thought you needed ice-cream.”  Her other hand slides gently on to his leg.  “There’s no-one else here.”  Her tone insinuates all sorts of interesting ideas.  “I thought you might want a little consolation, so I stayed.”  Her tone implies that consolation will take an enjoyably and definitely non-virtual form.  He puts his coffee down.  He doesn’t want scalded.  _Not_ conducive to said interesting ideas and non-virtual activities.  Her hand rises a little higher on his leg.  Areas of Castle are trending upward in response.  His arm sneaks round to her hip and tugs until she’s facing him.  He’d unaccountably failed to notice that her shirt is open at least one button lower than earlier.

“So, Castle,” Kate purrs.  “You don’t like your social media exposure.  How about some indecent exposure instead?”


End file.
